


Learning Curve

by malinaldarose (coralysendria)



Category: The Tomorrow People (1973)
Genre: Amnesia, Community: trope_bingo, Gen, Temporary Amnesia, Trope Bingo Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:14:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coralysendria/pseuds/malinaldarose
Summary: He doesn't know who he is, where he is, or who all these other people are....





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fills the Amnesia square on my Trope Bingo card for Round 7.

He opens his eyes. Did someone just call his name? 

He realizes that he doesn't remember his name.

He is surrounded by people he doesn't know. To his left, a dark-haired man in a cream-colored jumper sits at a high table beside a dark-skinned woman with her hair pulled into pigtails over her shoulders. At another high table to his right lounges a blonde youth. The young man's posture is indolent, but his expression is intent.

Standing between the tables is a woman with enormous eyes. Light brown hair frames her face. She stares at him, her brow furrowed. Although he cannot say why, he has the feeling that he has been the subject of such intense scrutiny before.

"What's going on?" he asks her, his hands clenching on the arms of the seat he occupies. "Who are you people?"

The worry line between her brows deepens, but her voice is neutral. "Don't you know us?"

He shakes his head. "I've never seen any of you before in my life."

"Tricia," the dark-haired man says in a warning tone.

"Yes, John," Tricia responds, without taking her eyes off him. "I am aware."

"Looks like you overdid it a bit," the blonde youth offers in a smug tone.

"Thank you, Tyso," Tricia says. "I had noticed."

Someone walks around from behind him, and Tricia finally looks away. The feeling of being released from her regard is almost physical. "Sir?"

This man is much older than any of the others, and his clothing is different... like... like.... The comparison he is reaching for is not there. His fingers tighten even further, his knuckles whitening.

"Your technique is correct, Miss Conway, but you must learn finer control. Think of the procedure not as a mallet, but as a laser scalpel removing the memories you select. In the meantime...." The man reaches toward him.

As Steen removes his fingers from Stephen's forehead, Stephen's mind fills with the information that had been missing a moment ago, including the fact that he had agreed, however grudgingly, to let Tricia Conway practice memory modification techniques on him as part of her training as an agent for the Galactic Federation's police force. He blinks. "That was--"

"Weird?" Tyso suggests.

"Terrifying," Stephen finishes. He looks up at Tricia, mentally skimming everything he knows about her, then glances about the Lab slotting everyone and everything into the places where they belong in his head, poking at his memory, but not immediately finding anything missing. "I couldn't remember a thing, not even my own name! When you did this before, Steen, you only removed an hour or so."

The galactic agent nods. "True. But you must remember that I have a great deal more practice than Miss Conway. Are you ready to go again?"

Stephen sighs. "I suppose. As long as I don't get stuck like that again."

Steen smiles faintly. "You won't. Very well then, Miss Conway. Try it again."

"Yes, sir." She approaches Stephen, her fingers ghosting across his forehead....


End file.
